A Code Poem

On April 1, 1990, an anonymous verse was posted to the comp.lang.perl newsgroup on Usenet. It was written in the programming language Perl 3:

BEFOREHAND: close door, each window & exit; wait until time.
    open spellbook, study, read (scan, select, tell us);
write it, print the hex while each watches,
    reverse its length, write again;
    kill spiders, pop them, chop, split, kill them.
        unlink arms, shift, wait & listen (listening, wait),
sort the flock (then, warn the "goats" & kill the "sheep");
    kill them, dump qualms, shift moralities,
    values aside, each one;
        die sheep! die to reverse the system
        you accept (reject, respect);
next step,
    kill the next sacrifice, each sacrifice,
    wait, redo ritual until "all the spirits are pleased";
    do it ("as they say").
do it(*everyone***must***participate***in***forbidden**s*e*x*).
return last victim; package body;
    exit crypt (time, times & "half a time") & close it,
    select (quickly) & warn your next victim;
AFTERWORDS: tell nobody.
    wait, wait until time;
    wait until next year, next decade;
        sleep, sleep, die yourself,
        die at last

Because of the large number of English words that are used in the Perl language, the poem can actually be compiled as legal code and executed as a program. (It exits on line one, reaching the function exit, producing no output.)

The poem was attributed to “a person who wishes to remain anonymous,” but new “Perl poems” are regularly submitted to the programming community at PerlMonks.

Nothing Ventured

A dentist spotted a deadbeat patient while dining at his country club one evening. He called the patient aside, reminded him that he owed him $250 for work done more than two years earlier, and insisted the man pay up. To the dentist’s astonishment, the patient pulled a checkbook from his pocket and wrote a check to the dentist for the full amount.

Skeptical about the patient’s good faith, the dentist went directly to the bank the next morning and presented the check for payment. The teller handed it back with the explanation that the patient’s account was a little short of the amount of the check. Following a few minutes of good-natured conversation the dentist learned that the man’s account was twenty-five dollars short of the needed amount. The dentist smiled, went to the customers’ desk for a few minutes, came back to the teller, deposited thirty dollars to the account of the patient, and then again presented the check for $250 and walked out with a net gain of $220.

— Ralph L. Woods, How to Torture Your Mind, 1969

In a Word

philomath
n. a lover of learning; a scholar

noddary
n. a foolish act

fedifragous
adj. contract-breaking

subitaneous
adj. sudden

In Fredric Brown’s 1954 short short story “Experiment,” Professor Johnson displays a brass cube and proposes to send it backward in time. An identical cube appears in his time machine at 2:55, and Johnson announces that at 3:00 he will complete the transaction by sending his own cube 5 minutes into the past.

A friend asks: What would happen if he changed his mind and didn’t send it?

“An interesting idea,” says the professor. “I had not thought of it, and it will be interesting to try. Very well, I shall not …”

“There was no paradox at all. The cube remained.

“But the entire rest of the Universe, professors and all, vanished.”

Query

Jones had been greatly depressed; he declared himself a murderer, and would not be comforted. Suddenly he asked me a question. ‘Are not the parents the cause of the birth of their children?’ said he. ‘I suppose so,’ said I. ‘Are not all men mortal?’ ‘That also may be admitted.’ ‘Then are not the parents the cause of the death of their children, since they know that they are mortal? And am I not a murderer?’ I was, I own, puzzled. At last I thought of something soothing. I pointed out to Jones that to cause the death of another was not necessarily murder. It might be manslaughter or justifiable homicide. ‘Of which of these then am I guilty?’ he queried. I could not say because I had never seen the Jones family, but I hear Jones has become a great bore in the asylum by his unceasing appeals to every one to tell him whether he has committed murder, manslaughter, or justifiable homicide!

— Rueben Abel, ed., Humanistic Pragmatism: The Philosophy of F.C.S. Schiller, 1966

The Ross-Littlewood Paradox

Into an empty vase drop balls numbered 1 to 10. Remove ball 1. Add balls numbered 11 to 20. Remove ball 2. Continue in this way, spending half an hour on the first transaction, 15 minutes on the next, and so on. After one hour all the transactions will be finished.

Obviously, in the end the vase will contain infinitely many balls, since with each step more balls have been added than removed.

But, equally obviously, after an hour the vase will be empty — since the time of each ball’s removal is known.

Getting Started

He, then, who says that something true exists either only asserts that something true exists or proves it. And if he merely asserts it, he will be told the opposite of his mere assertion, namely, that nothing is true. But if he proves that something is true, he proves it either by a true proof or by one that is not true. But he will not say that it is by one not true, for such a proof is not to be trusted. And if it is by a true proof, whence comes it that the proof which proves that something is true is itself true? If it is true of itself, it will be possible also to state as true of itself that truth does not exist; while if it is derived from proof, the question will again be asked ‘How is it that this proof is true?’ and so on ad infinitum. Since, then, in order to learn that there is something true, an infinite series must first be grasped, and it is not possible for an infinite series to be grasped, it is not possible to know for a surety that something true exists.

— Sextus Empiricus, Against the Logicians

Other Duties as Assigned

https://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:Schneeglocken.jpg

From Bismarck’s Reflections and Reminiscences, 1898:

At the time of my first stay at St. Petersburg, in 1859, I had an example of another Russian peculiarity. During the first spring days it was then the custom for every one connected with the Court to promenade in the Summer Garden between Paul’s Palace and the Neva. There the Emperor had noticed a sentry standing in the middle of a grass plot; in reply to the question why he was standing there, the soldier could only answer, ‘Those are my orders.’ The Emperor therefore sent one of his adjutants to the guard-room to make inquiries; but no explanation was forthcoming except that a sentry had to stand there winter and summer. The source of the original order could no longer be discovered. The matter was talked of at Court, and reached the ears of the servants. One of these, an old pensioner, came forward and stated that his father had once said to him as they passed the sentry in the Summer Garden: ‘There he is, still standing to guard the flower; on that spot the Empress Catherine once noticed a snowdrop in bloom unusually early, and gave orders that it was not to be plucked.’ This command had been carried out by placing a sentry on the spot, and ever since then one had stood there all the year round.

“Stories of this sort excite our amusement and criticism, but they are an expression of the elementary force and persistence on which the strength of the Russian nature depends in its attitude towards the rest of Europe.”